The Taste of Energon
by articmadador
Summary: The Battle of Chicago brought much loss to humans, as well as a new darkness to planet Earth. As rogue Decepticons wreak havoc across the world, a new major problem springs up that will change everything for all Cybertronians. As everyone struggles to keep themselves together, three girls arrive who may hold the solution, and they bring some much needed joy along with them.
1. Claire Anderson

**Yo! articmadador here actually starting a new story instead of finishing my other one up. I know I said I'd update my last story, and I will try to, but I've got so many ideas in my head that I'm falling apart. I've finally decided to write a story involving my true three Transformers OCs. I'll explain this more in the notes at the bottom of the story, but for now I want to just get chapter one out of the way, as well as a quick summary of where this starts.**

 **I loved TLK so much, but this story just kinda ignores that and makes it so it never really happened. Why? Cuz this is a fanfiction and I'm doin' my own thing. This takes place after DOTM, and AOE isn't really happening. I'm not sure if I'll put it in or not, I'll have to see where this goes. Basically I'm starting at the end of DOTM and making something new from there. All beloved Autobot characters that died in the movies are alive because they shouldn't have been offlined in the first place.**

 **I'm really about to put some work into this story because frag it, I gotta get this out. Also, there may be some language and violence warnings, but I will do my best to keep it rated T. I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! Hasbro does. I only own the OCs.**

 **So, all that being said, please do review and enjoy! :)**

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The Battle of Chicago had taken her father away from her. He was all the family she had left in the world, and now he was gone. They say he was killed in an explosion during the climax of the battle. They being the soldiers he had fought beside, and the explosion being more like he crashed into a building at full speed while using a wing suit. It seemed that they tried to sugar-coat his true cause of death, but she learned the truth through some papers that had been sent in. They were using wing suits to get into battle, and he hit the building while trying to avoid being shot out of the sky. The only reason he was even in Chicago was because he was a part of this military group called NEST that worked with these robotic aliens called Transformers. Apparently there were good Transformers and bad ones; the good ones being known as Autobots, and the bad ones being known as Decepticons. They had been at war for centuries, and when the war was brought to Earth, humans got involved. They paired up with the U.S. government, and together they fought to end the war and save Earth.

But she didn't care about any of that. It didn't matter to her who was good, bad, robot, or human. She didn't care because right now she hated them all. Her father was all she had, and because of some stupid war these robots brought to Earth, he was dead. She had been living with a friend of the family since he joined this NEST unit, and she hadn't seen him in person for years. She had been so excited recently, because in two more months he would have finally come home for a visit. Then there was news that the Autobots were being exiled, and that the Decepticons had not stuck to their word of taking what they needed here on Earth and leaving. She knew her father would be there fighting them, but she never expected to get a call after the battle and receive the news that he had been killed. To make things even worse, she was being forced to go to a NEST base and live there because she knew about the Autobots, as well as some classified information.

She knew all about her dad's job, because she had done some poking around their house and read papers he had hidden many years ago. She hadn't meant to learn any government intel, and only wanted to know why her father was leaving her. She had been seven at the time, and had barely even understood what she had read. She definitely hadn't understood what was happening when people from the government came and questioned her and her father, nor why they moved to Washington D.C. shortly after. Now that she was older, she understood, and though she remembered very little of what she had read all those years ago, the government wanted her to be relocated now that her father was deceased. Apparently the information she had read made her not only a target, but dangerous to NEST and to the government. It was not because the government didn't want humans to know the Autobots were here, because most humans already knew that. It was because of all the information she might know, even though she definitely forgot most of what she read from ten years ago. She didn't know anything other than what NEST and the Autobots were, but the government wasn't taking any chances.

Two days after receiving the news that her dad was gone forever, she was packed and ready to leave for the military base. She sat in silence on her bed as she held an old picture of herself and her father. It had been taken many years ago while they were a carnival, just her, her dad, and her mom. She was four years old in the picture, and she was on his shoulders with her hands up in the air. She was laughing with a expression of pure joy on her face, and her father had a wide smile on his face. Her mother had taken the picture, and now she wished she had been in it herself. Nonetheless, she loved this picture, because it was the last time she could remember her dad being so happy. He looked so young and joyous, with his deep brown eyes bright and full of life, and a smile that could definitely light up a room. Now, she would never see that smile again.

There was a knock at her door, and the girl looked up as it was slowly pushed open. Her father's friend, Alex, stood there looking at her with a solemn look. She had been a friend of her mother and father for years, and had taken good care of her in her father's absence. The girl was reluctant to leave her, because in the years they'd been together, it felt as if Alex was like family. But there was nothing either of them could do to keep the government from relocating her. With a sad look in her eyes, the blonde-haired woman stepped into the room.

"They're here, Claire."

By they she meant the people who would be taking her to the airport and flying her off to some military base. She would be taken by strangers to live with soldiers and giant robots. This is not what she wanted, and considering all that her father had done years ago to prevent this, it's not what he would have wanted either. But she had no choice, and now he had no say in the matter.

"Okay…" Claire said, her voice so quiet it was almost like a whisper.

Alex was still for a few seconds before she sat down beside Claire. "I know you don't want to do this. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be going anywhere. But unfortunately, this is how things have to be. The government is trying to protect you—"

"They're trying to protect themselves. They're sending me away just because of some papers I read when I was seven. I didn't even understand what I was reading."

There was a rustling noise from downstairs, and the sound of voices. Claire's heart clenched at the realization that the very people taking her away were sitting downstairs. Alex signed and stared at the floor. "This is the last thing your dad wanted. He didn't want you to get involved in this military stuff. He wanted you to be as far away from it as possible, because he knew how dangerous it was. He never wanted you to be scared or hurt."

Claire clenched her eyes shut as they began to sting. More tears were coming, and she had already cried so much that she felt a headache coming on. She felt a hand on her back, and turned to look at Alex. She saw redness in her brown eyes as if she were going to cry, but when she spoke her voice was strong and clear. "But you know what I think?"

Claire blinked and looked away. "What?"

"I think you'll be just fine. If you're anything like your father, as strong and brave as he was, then you'll be okay. You can take whatever they throw at you. Whatever the world throws at you. You've been through so much, Claire. So many hard times and so much pain. And I've watched you pull through everything and come out stronger in the end. You have the same determined and courageous spirit of your father. Over the years, even though he hasn't been here, even he's seen how far you've come and how hard you work to push forward when everything is trying to hold you back. What did he always tell you when you two where in a video chat, or her sent a letter? What did he always say after you finished telling him how well you've done in school, and the progress you've made with other things?"

Claire wiped the tears that were now pouring down her face and did her best to speak in a strong voice. "I'm proud of you…"

"Yes, and he meant that. He was so proud of you. I'm proud of you, and I'm sure your mother is proud of you. I know leaving home like this is hard, and it's scary. But just remember how you pulled through everything else. You can do this. I know you can, and deep down I know that you know you can do it. Being afraid is okay, because you can use it as your motivation. You can use it to make you stronger. And if you ever feel like you can't do this, just remember how proud your father always said he was of you. Remember that you have a strong, brave spirit just like he did."

Claire, her eyes still burning and her head pounding, reached over and hugged Alex. "Thank you so much."

"No, thank you. You mean so much to me, you're like my family too." They pulled out of the hug, and Alex smiled at Claire. "I know you can do this. I don't doubt it at all." Claire nodded and smiled, though the smile was weak and shaky. Alex looked over at Claire's suitcase and backpack. "Did you pack everything?"

"I think so. I checked three times."

"Good. Well…I guess we'd better get this downstairs. They're waiting." Alex stood up and grabbed the suitcase. "I'll carry this down, you get the backpack."

The two of them quietly carried everything downstairs and sat it near the door. When Claire, turned and looked in the living room, she saw three men in uniforms waiting for them. Two of them looked more like SWAT officers, but one was dressed in seemingly normal military attire, save from the strange black and white patch on his chest that had an animal skull and the word NEST on it. The man walked up and looked down at her with soft brown eyes. He was tall and looked quite muscular. However, he had a bit of a baby face, and his voice wasn't loud and harsh like Claire expected, but smooth and rather quiet when he talked.

"Are you Claire Anderson?" he asked.

"Yes," Claire replied before mentally slapping herself for how weak her voice sounded.

The man extended his hand. "I'm Burke Shehan. I was a friend of your father's."

Claire shook the man's hand, her heart feeling a bit heavier as she wondered if he had witnessed her father's death. She scolded herself mentally as she wished for a brief second that this man had went out instead her he dad. Burke turned around and motioned to the men behind him, and they walked up. "Are you ready to go?" he questioned.

Claire nodded, then turned and hugged Alex again. "Thank you so much for everything, Alex. I promise I'll try to keep in touch."

The blonde-haired woman hugged her back. "Please do. I'm going to miss you so much." As they pulled away, Alex looked Claire in the eyes. "And don't ever forget what I said. You can do this."

Claire nodded, then struggled to hold back tears as she grabbed her suitcase and opened the door. Burke said goodbye to Alex, and they exchanged a few other words, but Claire wasn't listening. Instead, she looked towards the three black, seemingly armored trucks and car parked in front of the house. Two of them appeared to be undercover police trucks, while the black car parked in the middle lacked siren lights. Burke walked up beside her, and they silently headed towards the car. He opened the car door for her, then he took her suitcase and put it in the trunk while she settled in. He didn't say anything about her keeping the backpack with her, and closed the door before getting in the passenger seat of the car. The driver waited until the police in front of them turned on their siren lights and began driving before turning on the car and following.

Claire sat quietly in the backseat and stared at the house she had lived in for almost nine years. Alex stood in the door, staring at the car. Claire wanted to wave, but instead she just stared at her as the car began to move. Claire turned her head to keep her in sight as they drove off, and even turned around in her seat as they headed further away to watch as the house became smaller and smaller. When they finally turned a corner and she could no longer see the house, she sat down and stared out of the window. She didn't want to cry anymore, and now very few thoughts went through her mind. So, she focused on the houses and buildings flying pass, and tried to memorize every last one of them. She figured she'd never see them again.

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 **So, there you go! Chapter one of this new story. Now, on my OCs. Basically, I'm kinda reusing OCs, but I plan to make them more developed and unique. I really like my first three OCs, and I have so many ideas they fit with. This story has no links to my first one, other than the chracters may be a little similar. Also, Claire Whiting from my first story was based off a friend of mine from my school. Her name was actually Claire, and because she inspired me, I named my character after her (her first name was spelled differently, and last name was completely different). She would've had a different name, but I guess I just wanted to honor my friend. This Claire was an OC I made up myself, and I named her Claire because the name just seemed to fit her. Also their names being the same is just me being a dolt and not wanting to choose another name.**

 **So, I hope you enjoyed chapter one. This will be able active story, so I will be making updates to it more frequently and I will do my best not to drop it. I'll probably writing Chapter 2 almost immediately after I post this, so it will be out soon. Have a good'n!**


	2. Moby and Chelsey

**Yo! articmadador here with another chapter for this new story. I really like writing for this story, especially with new OCs. I loved my other ones, but I was running out of ideas for them. I might stull throw in an odd story or two for them, though. Anyways, I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! Hasbro does. I only own the OCs. Please review and enjoy!**

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It's amazing that of all the stars in the sky, many of which are really planets or even galaxies full of them, Transformers ended up here on this planet. There had to be so many more planets out there where they could've gone, places where their war wouldn't have caused all the pain and loss it had caused here. But they were here for a reason, and apparently if they left, humans would be completely screwed. At least the government had seemingly learned their lesson, and there wouldn't be another incident like this again.

A pair of eyes gazed at the sky, observing every twinkling star and constellation they could see. However, thoughts of how everything going wrong in the world could've been avoided raced through the person's mind. There had been so many other ways the government could've handled the conflict the Transformers were having, but instead they chose to exile Earth's only defense. They could've at least staged the exile or something. Maybe then there wouldn't have been so much death and damage. Then she wouldn't be in this predicament right now.

"Moby! Stop staring at the sky! Why don't you stop dreaming and do something for once!" an agitated voice called.

Moby groaned indignantly and continued to stare up at the twinkling stars. They looked as if they had been painted onto a black canvas and stretched out above her. She wanted to stare at them for hours and wonder what other beings could be out there. However, it sounded like her friend wasn't in the mood to wait around. Besides, she only had a few more minutes before the sun would begin to rise and brighten up the sky, then she wouldn't be able to see them at all. She sat up, then immediately went still as a wave of nausea hit her, and she struggled not to gag as her mouth filled with saliva and her eyes watered. For a few seconds, she felt herself losing the battle as the feeling got worse and worse. She sat still with her arms wrapped around her torso and took deep breaths, and luckily for her the feeling slowly dissipated.

"Moby, stop messing around! Get down here, dread-head!" the voice called again.

The sound of her friend's angry voice made Moby jump up and carefully crawl down the mess of concrete and metal she had been resting on. She did her best to avoid cutting herself or slipping, because the last thing she needed now was a severe injury. She finally reached a point where she could jump down a short distance to the ground, and landed almost directly beside her friend, A tall and slim girl with light brown skin. Her long, curly black hair lay against her shoulders, looking almost like a flowing black river. She had definitely brushed it and done a bit of grooming, and though Moby wanted to comment on it, she noticed the angry look in her friend's brown eyes and thought better of it. She opted to greet her with a smile, but instead was greeted by a water bottle to the head.

"How many times have I told ya not to sit up there!? You could fall down, you dumb ass!" the girl snapped.

"Damn, Chelsey!" Moby cried as she rubbed her head. "You tryna scramble my brain!?"

The girl snorted and shoved a backpack into Moby's arms. "No need to, you're already completely nuts."

"Wow, thanks for the compliment."

Chelsey rolled her eyes and turned away, then began walking down the street. Moby took a moment to yawn and stretch before she sprinted a short distance to catch up with her friend. She began shaking her dreads to make sure no rocks had been caught in them, and once content with them she snatched the water bottle from her friend.

"So, where'd you find this?" she asked as she unscrewed the cap.

"I didn't find it, I refilled it."

Moby groaned. "Where'd you get the water?"

"Same place we've been getting it. The tap water from the office building."

"Did you check for—"

"You know water jugs are empty, and we already looked everywhere for more. I had to get the water from the sink."

"This water makes us sick, Chelsey. Maybe we can find some water somewhere else to drink."

"There's no more water here, and we need to leave anyway. Oklahoma is not gonna get up and come here to pick us up."

"I know…"

Moby held the water bottle up, now able to see it more clearly since the sun was coming up. The bottle was old, one they'd been reusing for a while. The water inside was seemingly clear, though there seemed to be a little dirt in it. It also had this bluish tint to it, just like all tap water they collected. They always got sick every time they drank it, but with it being so hard for them to find water bottles, they didn't have a choice but to drank this. Moby took a second to prepare herself for the taste, then turned the bottle up and drank as much as she could. A bitter taste flooded her mouth, and her tongue and throat began to tingle. She was only able to take a few gulps before she turned the bottle down and shoved it back into Chelsey's hands. Chelsey paused for a moment before taking a few gulps herself, then she took a few deep breaths as her eyes watered.

"Damn, that tastes bad," she muttered.

"It's the worse we've had all week," Moby gritted out. "We're gonna be sick as hell later."

"Let's get as far as we can before it hits. Come on." Chelsey reached out and tugged Moby's arm as she started walking faster.

"I'm comin'! I'm comin'! Don't rush me."

As the two girls walked together, the sun slowly rose in the sky, warming the day and shining down on a damaged city below. They were traveling through a city in Missouri that neither of them knew the name of. The buildings were heavily damaged, some completely destroyed. Concrete, glass, and brick littered the streets, and the girls constantly had to step and climb over obstacles. Cars were scattered everywhere, some thrown into buildings. None of them were in working condition, and it seemed as if most of them had been on fire or caught in an explosion. Papers, clothes, electronic devices, and even food where just some of the things that littered the streets and sidewalks of the city. Decepticons had definitely been here, and they seemingly had a field day.

The girls had arrived together a week and a half ago after the city had been attacked. With the Decepticons gone and no other people around, the girls didn't have to duck and keep hidden, and they had no competition for supplies. But, with all the damage to the city, there wasn't much around to pick from. Besides, the girls weren't here to stay, but were only passing through to rest and restock on their way to Oklahoma. Chelsey had family there, and the two of them were going to live with them, where they would be safe. With Decepticons raiding cities and murdering humans at every turn, they needed to get there was quickly as possible. However, they could only move so fast on foot, and with little food and a lot of contaminated water, the journey was taking a toll on both of them. Everyday they were getting sicker, and as they pushed themselves more and more it only got worse. The long rest here had done them some good, but even now they were feeling ill. They tried not to dwell on it, often chatting away as happily as they could and doing their best to ignore the pain and discomfort they felt throughout the day.

"Did you call them this morning?" Moby piped suddenly, interrupting the silence that had hung in the air for a while now.

"Them?"

"Your cousins in Oklahoma."

"Yeah. They said everything is okay out there. A little bit of stormy weather, but none of those…Decepticons."

"Good." Moby looked around, contemplating whether to ask the next question. She then decided it was best she ask now. "Did you ask them about me?"

There was a brief pause before Chelsey replied. "No."

"Chelsey—"

"They're gonna take you in, Moby. Stop doubting it."

"That don't even know I'm comin'! You have to tell them ahead of time. If I just show up with you, they're gonna be like 'Who the hell is this'!?"

"They'll still take you in when they find out you're my friend, and how much we've been through. Stop worrying, Moby. They won't leave you out in the cold. I won't let them."

Moby nodded, though she was still nervous about meeting Chelsey's relatives. She was sure they would take her in, but she didn't know them just as much as they didn't know her. She wasn't sure if she'd feel safe once they arrived at their home. Nonetheless, she didn't want to leave Chelsey, and she believed her when she said her cousins were nice and welcoming. She figured she was just overthinking, and decided they had plenty of time to talk about this more later.

The two girls walked on in silence for a while before Chelsey suddenly staggered. She tried to straighten up, but instead tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. Moby was at her side in seconds, and realized that Chelsey might be about to puke. She started coughing and gagging, then seemingly began to choke on something. Then, before Moby could react, she coughed up a small mass of a light blue, jelly-like substance. Chelsey then seemed to recover, and leaned back while taking deep breaths. Moby stared in shock and a bit of disgust at what her friend had just hacked up. Then, she grabbed a small piece of concrete beside her and began using it to help her examine the substance.

"What the hell did I just throw up?" Chelsey asked in a hoarse voice.

"I have no clue," Moby replied as she moved the mass around with the concrete. It was a wet, loose blob of something Moby didn't recognize. It was a light blue, almost white color, and when she leaned close to smell it, she couldn't match the smell to anything she knew. "It's a good thing it came out of you, whatever it is."

"It hurt coming up."

"I'm sure it did. You hacked it up like a cat hacks up a damn hairball. I ain't know you yarped pellets."

Chelsey smiled at her friend. "Shut up."

Moby smiled to herself, then managed to gather and lift up a small amount of the substance on the concrete chunk. "Here, you want it back?"

Chelsey's eyes widened. "No, Moby! Don't you dare!"

Moby inched closer, a mischievous smile on her face. "Here, you can have it back."

"Moby, stop!" Chelsey cried as she scrambled to give up, though she was smiling herself. "You play too much!"

Moby stood up and inched closer. "What, don't you want it?"

Now Chelsey staggered to her feet and moved back. "No, I don't want it!"

"Here, take it back!"

Moby leapt at Chelsey, and Chelsey shrieked before she took off running as fast as she could. Moby discarded the concrete chunk and ran after her, laughing almost hysterically as she went. The two girls ran through the streets, laughing and dodging one another. Due to the water always making them sick, they rarely felt like running around and having fun. This rare burst of energy was welcomed by both of them, and even when they tired of running, neither of them stopped. However, all things must come to an end, and it wasn't long before Moby tripped and fell onto the asphalt.

"Dog shit!" she hissed, then rolled over laughing.

Chelsey came to a stop, then walked over to her friend. "See, that's what you get for chasing me in the first place."

Moby sat up and stretched her arms and legs. "Oh, bah humbug."

"Moby, it's not Christmas."

"Hell, it's always Christmas."

Chelsey chuckled before leaning down and offering to help Moby up. Moby practically pulled her down to the ground when she stood up, jerking the poor girl backwards to propel herself upwards. When they both stood, Moby grabbed her backpack and they set about walking again.

"Hey, you think those Decepticons will show up on us?" Chelsey asked casually.

"Nah, we're far behind them. Besides, your cousins said there are none around them. Hell, we'll be okay."

"You've said that before and been wrong, Moby."

"Yeah, well if I'm wrong this time, you can look at me and say 'Moby, this is all your fault!'"

"Okay, I'll remember you said that. The moment those Decepticons show up and something goes wrong, I'm gonna say that right back to ya."

Moby only laughed and swung her arms back and forth. "Fine, fine. But I doubt we'll run into them again."

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 **There you go, Chapter 2. I almost had this done yesterday, then didn't like what I had so I ended up rewriting half of the chapter. I will do my best to have Chapter 3 out soon. Hope you enjoyed! Have a good'n!**


	3. NEST

**Yo! articmadador here saying please don't make me go back to school! It starts tomorrow, and I wish summer would just come back and start over. Then I'd get to see TLK again in theaters :). Anyway, this chapter is out a little later than I wanted it to be. I had to restart it three times before I was finally satisfied with it. Oh well, that happens sometimes. Also, to answer CastielLunaWinchester's question, you'll find out in the later chapters just what's going on with Chelsey and Moby. Also, glad you're liking the story, and thanks to everyone who's reading it, it means a lot to me. I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! Hasbro does. I only own the OCs. Please review and enjoy!**

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The Battle of Chicago would definitely be the most memorable battle fought by humans and Autobots against the Decepticons. It had cost billions of dollars in damages, caused countless casualties and missing people cases, and resulted in a large number of rogue Decepticons causing chaos across the world. It would take years to fully restore the destroyed city of Chicago, and even longer to repair other damaged locations. Not to mention all Decepticons across the planet needed to be hunted down, and there were a lot of them. It would also take even longer for Earth and its people to recover from the trauma of such a battle.

One good thing that had resulted from the battle was that NEST had been reestablished, meaning the Autobots were once again welcome on Earth. Well, welcome is a strong word, and it is more like they are allowed to legally take refuge on Earth again. Earth's people definitely have different opinions of whether they should be allowed to stay here or not. After seeing just what the Decepticons want and are capable of, it's obvious that humans definitely know better than to just immediately kick their only true defense off the planet again. So, the Autobots won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

As soon as all NEST personnel received the news that the Autobots were here to stay, and all their contracts had been restored, they all received new orders. The old NEST base would be restored in Diego Garcia, and their force would be flown in as quickly as possible. All operating equipment from their base in Chicago would be brought along as well. Once they landed, many of them would be deployed to, as the government documents stated, "locate and exterminate any rogue Decepticons or threats of Cybertronian origin". Almost as soon as they received the orders, everyone took action and NEST was back and operating at Diego Garcia in a matter of days.

As a few weeks passed, everyone settled into rushed routines and became accustomed to little rest and overwork. Almost as soon as a group of soldiers and Autobots were deployed somewhere to take care of Decepticons, more rogues popped up in another location. The battles were brutal, the damages costly, and the casualties high. The officials from the Pentagon put more pressure on NEST to fight more Cons and faster, while avoiding as many damages and civilian deaths as possible. The constant struggle to comply took a toll on everyone who went out fighting, and more bots and soldiers came back to base with injuries and broken spirits. Even those stationed at base were facing constant work and were obviously exhausted. As much as everyone wanted to take a break, they knew better to than to slack even a little. The faster they took care of the Decepticons, the sooner they could get the rest and recovery they all so desperately needed.

It took seven weeks of non-stop action before Decepticon activity began to decline. Of course, there were still attacks and raids, but they were less in number. Though soldiers and bots alike were still being deployed at almost the same rate, they didn't have to endure as many brutal fights, and came back with less severe injuries and better reports. Everyone at base slowly found themselves becoming slightly more at ease. For the first time in weeks, soldiers could actually stand still and rest for a while without the fear that their teammates were dying across the world due to their lack of activity.

Of all the humans and Autobots who had been drowning in work, few had to deal with all the work and frustration that Ratchet dealt with on a daily basis. It seemed that these days the CMO was always repairing some bot, whether they had already been recovering in the medbay, or had just come in with new injuries. Since the battle, Ratchet had been slowly repairing Ironhide and Wheeljack. Both mechs had been severely injured, with Ironhide having been blasted by Sentinel Prime's cosmic rust cannon, and Wheeljack receiving a few shots that heavily damaged his spark chamber. Both mechs were unable to do any fighting or moving around base, and had been confined to the medbay.

With the action dying down a bit, Ratchet actually found some peace and quiet in the medbay. Even his eager apprentice, Jolt, was off on a mission and acting as an experienced field medic while Ratchet stayed behind with their two recovering teammates. He now stood beside Ironhide, observing some recent repairs he had done on the mech's right side and arm. The newly implanted metal and wields were healing nicely, much to the exhausted medic's relief. Ironhide's right arm, side, and both legs had been partially disintegrated by the rust. He had nearly been offlined, but only by using tools and materials scavenged from Decepticon ships in Chicago was Ratchet able to save his old friend. Ironhide had been in emergency stasis for almost three weeks before he woke up. Each day afterwards had consisted of the mech silently enduring the pain and doing his best to recover. Rust was something no Cybertronian messed around about, and Ironhide was very lucky to even be online. He was obviously determined to recover, and Ratchet was grateful that his friend was putting up a fight to survive.

Wheeljack was another story entirely. His spark chamber was not cracked, nor did it have a simple hole in it. No, it had been blasted through three times, and the protective glass-like membranes it was made of had almost completely shattered. Wheeljack had nearly bleed out and died right in the street where he'd been shot, and if it weren't for Brains and Wheelie making a distraction with the ships from above, Wheeljack would've received one last killing shot. Now, even though he was still alive, he had not so much as stirred since the battle. He was still in emergency stasis, and it would definitely be a long time before the inventor would wake up again. Ratchet had observed that less than half of the damages to the chamber had been repaired, and Wheeljack's spark was still quite unstable. The fact the Ratchet could not really repair a spark chamber other than set it on the course of self repair meant the medic would have to be patient and hopeful. At lest now he had the proper monitors to read a spark and help treat any problems. He was almost grateful to the Decepticon medics for the new equipment he had.

Despite the state his friends were in, Ratchet found it in himself to relax for a short while. The two mechs were currently in no danger and he needed their self repair systems to kick in and take over, so he would having nothing to be but wait after checking up on him. After a through examination of Ironhide's repairs, and a careful reading of the monitor beside Wheeljack, Ratchet decided to take a break and enjoy the near silence in the room. Well, that is until there was the sound of the medbay door sliding open. ' _So much for enjoying the silence'_ , the medic thought as he turned to see who needed treatment now. He looked around for an Autobot, but was instead greeted by a voice near his pedes.

"Hey! Down here!"

Ratchet looked down to see a familiar face, that of Robert Epps. Considering that Epps had resigned from NEST, it was a surprise to see him here. "Hello, Epps," Ratchet greeted as he leaned down to see the man better. "I did not expect to see you here."

Epps smiled up at him. "Yeah, well…I just flew in with the Wreckers."

At the sound of that, Ratchet felt his optic twitch. Leadfoot, Roadbuster, and Topspin were good mechs and reliable soldiers, but their personalities could be difficult to deal with and they are known for causing major damages to any base they occupy. The hear that they were here at Diego Garcia made Ratchet even more stressed than he already was.

"You okay, Ratchet?" Epps questioned, the concern evident in his voice. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Ratchet blinked at the man before replying, "I'm fine, but I do wish to know why you are here. Are you injured in any way, or have the Wreckers injured themselves?"

Epps shook his head. "No, I was just stoppin' by to say hello. What, I can't do that?"

Ratchet shifted, the position he was standing in now causing him a bit of discomfort. He realized he had neglected to do some checkups on himself during the pass few weeks. Now he noticed how stiff he was, as well as how some parts of his frame felt strained. He even felt some pinched wires and noticed that his energy levels were rather low. He had worked himself harder than he had realized. Perhaps Epps wouldn't stay long so he could refuel and get some quick recharge.

"I don't see anything wrong with visiting me to say hello," the CMO said finally, replying to Epps' question.

"Good. You know, I haven't seen you in a long time. How have you been?" the man asked, crossing his arms.

Now feeling quiet uncomfortable with using position, and realizing that Epps wanted to carry a conversation, Ratchet carefully crouched and lowered a servo to the human. "If you wish to have a conversation, I suggest we move to a berth. I need to sit down."

Epps nodded and climbed onto the medic's servo. "Sorry, I guess you are a little tired. Have you been working all day?"

Ratchet set the man down a nearby berth, then sat down a fair distance from him so that he could turn his head and look right down at him. "Today has been quiet. This seems to be the most relaxed day we've experienced in weeks."

"Good, you guys need a break." Epps glanced over at Ironhide, who was now in recharge, and Wheeljack. "I heard those two got injured. Both of them look like they were hurt bad."

"They were nearly offlined. Ironhide was attacked by Sentinel Prime when he first revealed his betrayal. Wheeljack was shot in his spark chamber by Decepticons in the heat of the battle."

"It…it hurts to see Ironhide in this condition. I mean, I hate to see both of them like this, but I've known Ironhide ever since he first got here to Earth. I don't know Wheeljack, but the Wreckers do. They said he's a good guy, and he didn't deserve this."

"Neither of them did. Wheeljack did not even wish to fight. He's an inventor and scientist, not an actual soldier." Epps nodded, seemingly because he didn't know what else to do. He was silent for a moment, and Ratchet decided to break the silence with a question. "Are you rejoining NEST?"

Epps signed. "I don't know. I left for a reason, to get my dream job. But now…" Epps looked up at the CMO with an expression that made Ratchet feel a bit uncomfortable. "Now that the Xantium is gone," Epps continued, "and now that the government wants you guys further away from civilian populations, I've been sent here. I think I might _have_ to rejoin NEST. I mean, I can't go back to my old job, especially not since my main task was to work with the Wreckers and watch over their ship. Besides, my family is safer while I'm away from home, so I've got to stick around out here until the public calms down."

The medic thought over what Epps said before replying, "My apologies for how things have turned out. I'm sure it was very disappointing to lose your…dream job. And, I do hope that your family is safe."

Epps smiled. "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me." Epps glanced back at the two recovering mechs before looking up at Ratchet again. "Have you heard the recent gossip around base?"

Ratchet snorted. "I have no time to gossip, not that I am interested in that sort of thing."

"Well, you'll be interested in this. They're bringing a kid to base."

The CMO looked at Epps with a mixture of confusion and surprise. "A…kid?"

"Yeah. Well, she's more like a teenager. She's related to of one of the soldiers who died in the Battle of Chicago. Did you know a guy by the name of Todd Anderson?"

Ratchet thought for a moment. "I believe I did. He was around when NEST was first brought into existence."

"Yeah. He was a pretty outgoing guy, and a good soldier. Apparently he died when Lennox and his crew went hang gliding into the city. I think the kid coming is his daughter. I don't remember her name, but apparently she read some important papers when she was little. Found out all about NEST and some other government stuff. In order to keep her safe, and from saying anything, she's being brought here to live on base."

"Is your government not aware that we are a currently overworked defense force, and not a daycare?"

"Yeah, but she's got to go somewhere."

"Well…we have dealt with human teenagers before. One even lived on the base, a twelve year old if I remember correctly. He seemed to seek out danger instead of listening to us and staying out of the way. Human teenagers almost always attract unwanted Decepticon attention. They run a higher risk of getting into trouble."

Epps emitted a sharp whistle before stating, "Sounds like someone just doesn't like kids."

Ratchet glared at the man. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothin'. Nothing at all."

Ratchet crossed his arms. "I did not say I don't like human children. I simply do not believe this base is the best place for one to be."

"I agree with you on that one. This is no place for a kid, even if she is a teenager."

"Well, perhaps she will be mature for her age. Besides, she is the only one coming, correct?"

"So I've heard."

"Then there isn't really much to worry about." Ratchet was about to say something else, but instead almost jumped in surprise when his comm link suddenly beeped. "Excuse me for a moment, Epps. One of the other Autobots is trying to contact me."

The man nodded in understanding, and Ratchet answered the comm. Jolt was on the other end, and he sounded like a human who just ran a marathon. Not only was he ventilating heavily, but he spoke almost frantically. ::Ratchet! Are you there!?::

::I'm here, what's wrong?::

::It's Optimus! He just suddenly collapsed in the middle of a battle. He was drifting in and out of consciousness as we all got him away from the fight. He kept muttering about Sentinel and the Matrix. He later went into stasis, and the humans loaded him up on a plane and took off. We only just cleared the way from them to take off. They should arrive back at base in roughly six to seven hours. He's stable, so I believe he should be okay during the trip.::

::I'll be ready for him as soon as the plane arrives. Try not to panic, Jolt. Focus on the fight, a as well as the others. They'll need your reassurance that Optimus is okay. Understood?::

::Yeah…::

::Good. Ratchet out.::

"Everything okay?" Epps asked as Ratchet looked down on him.

"I believe so."

"Good. Well, I'm starving and it's around lunch time. I'd better go to the mess hall and see what they've got goin' on."

The man stood, and Ratchet offered his servo once again. Epps climbed on and held on tight as Ratchet lowered him to the ground. He stepped down and turned to look up at the CMO. "It was good talking to ya, Ratchet. Good to see you again when we aren't getting shot at."

"Likewise." Ratchet couldn't help being a little amused by Epps' statement. It was true that when they had last each other again since Epps left NEST, Decepticons were trying to blow them all the oblivion. There was no chatting then, only shooting.

"Well, take it easy. And get some food—er—fuel."

"After all the time you've been with us, are you still under the expression that we consume solid food?"

"No, but the Wreckers call energon 'chow', so I get a little confused. Doesn't really make since to me, but then again they never really make any since. Anyways, see you around."

Ratchet watched the man go, then stood and set his processor on getting some energon. He still had plenty of time before Optimus arrived, and something told him he wanted to be completely refueled when the mech arrived. He had a strange feeling that something was going to go completely wrong today.

* * *

 **Apparently there was a twelve years old that stayed with NEST, according to the movie comics. His name was Kevin Bowman, and he was so a friend of Gears. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Have a good'n!**


	4. Arrival and Bad News

**Yo! articmadador here saying this past week has not been a good one for me. Even though I was on fall break, stuff was still popping up to give me a hard time. At least some good did come of it, though. I mean, the main thing was no school! Anyway, I know I have completely disappeared only to pop up again with a new chapter, and I am sorry to have taken so long. School is a beast, but I am determined to get this story finished! So, I will be cranking out chapters, just probably not as rapidly as I'd like to. I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! Hasbro does. I only own whatever plot material and characters you don't recognize. Please review and enjoy!**

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When Claire arrived at the NEST base in Diego Garcia, she was nervous, still quite upset, and very exhausted. She hadn't slept a wink during the final day of traveling, but instead had spent most of it crying. Here she was countless miles from the only home she's ever known, surrounded by people she did not know, and she's being forced to live on a military base possibly for the rest of her life. This isn't what her father would've wanted, that was for sure. But it wasn't like he could prevent this from happening now. Claire doubted she could've even fought back instead of allowed them to take her way. There was no telling what would've happened if she had resisted being brought here.

As the plane landed on the island, Claire tried to suck up all of her tears and push her emotions down. She didn't want the soldiers to look at her and know she was nervous and afraid to be here. She figured the Transformers would be able to sense her fear, so the most she could do was pretend in front of them. Hopefully everyone would just give her space, or better yet ignore her. Everyone was probably too busy to worry about some teenager on a military base. As the plane slowed to a stop, she heard the sounds of plane engines and people yelling from outside. She began to image how many soldiers must be running around outside, and it didn't help her fear and nervousness at all. The soldiers on the plane seemed to all start moving at once, all heading towards the door of the plane in sync. It was truly creepy, and only added to Claire's discomfort.

She unbuckled herself as a soldier approached her with her luggage. He didn't say anything, not even as she reached for her backpack. She took it and put it on, then hesitantly followed the soldier as he rolled her suitcase towards the door. Most of the other soldiers had cleared out, but Claire could still see everyone crowded around outside. As she stepped out, she was greeted by hot, humid air. The sun was shining so brightly she had to shield her eyes until they could adjust. Not used to the humidity, she instantly felt as if weight was pushing in her chest. She almost felt faint, especially with the glare and heat from the sun. As she began to look around, she found herself overwhelmed at the sight of the base.

Soldiers were everywhere, running to and from planes, as well as in and out of hangers. A large plane was landing, and it looked as if soldiers were going to get run over. There was shouting coming from everywhere, and the sound of voices and engines together made Claire's ears hurt. As she headed down the ramp, the heat began getting to her and she longed to get back on the plane and curl up into a ball. The crowd seemed to be radiating heat as well, especially since everyone was running around in hot uniforms. Claire felt as if she were suffocating, and strived to focus on the soldier as he led her towards a large hanger. The only good thing was that no one seemed to notice her, and moved around her without a glance.

The moment they reached the hanger and walked inside, three people walked up to her. Considering that the soldier who had led her in left her suitcase and walked off, she figured these three would be helping her settle in. The first person to approach was a woman with brown hair and a gentle face. She wasn't wearing a uniform, but instead was wearing a blue long sleeved blouse and a long black skirt. She seemed so out of place here, even though the people beside her were also wearing casual clothes. She walked up to Claire and extended her hand, a friendly smile on her face.

"Hello, and welcome to Diego Garcia. My name is Karen Wright, and I'm the Civilian Assistance Manager here at NEST. I'll be helping you settle in and make sure you have everything you need."

Claire shook her hand, momentarily forgetting all the commotion around her. "Hi, I'm Claire. Claire Anderson."

Karen nodded, then turned to the person on her left. He was a young man with dark blonde hair. He seemed friendly enough, though his expression showed he may not have been fully paying attention, and was probably thinking about other things. "This is Brandon Miller. He'll be showing you around the base later once you get unpacked."

He leaned forwards and shook hands with Claire. He smiled and nodded, then moved back and began to stare off into the crowd. Claire focused on the woman to Karen's left as she introduced her. She had long black hair and tan skin, and looked very friendly. "This is Lauren Noble. She'll be taking you to your room. She is right across the hall from you, so she'll be able to help you out when you get lost or need something."

"Nice to meet you," Lauren said as she shook Claire's hand."

"Likewise."

There was yelling behind Claire, and she turned around to see what was happening. She saw nothing other than the large crowd of soldiers moving around. She did hear someone yelling "Optimus is here" and "Get Ratchet". That didn't make any sense to her, but once again Claire began extremely nervous, and now she felt a little self conscience. She turned to Karen as she heard her say something, then immediately froze as she looked up.

A very tall, very scary metal being was approaching them. It was a strange shade of green with red stripes. There were car lights and other parts attached to it, reminding Claire that these aliens were able to transform into cars, hence their name. What scared Claire the most was its human-like face. It had a worried expression on its face, and it looked as if its entire body were tense. Claire was at a loss for words as it approached their group, its glowing blue eyes focused on the crowd.

"Ratchet!" Karen said suddenly.

The Transformer looked down at Karen, then at Brandon and Lauren, then at Claire. She felt her heart immediately start to pound, and she began to breathe rapidly. "Do you have a moment?" Karen asked.

The Transformer, or Ratchet, gave Claire an odd look, then looked back at the crowd. "No, I have something urgent to take care of," it said. Its voice was male, and despite it, or him being so tall, his voice was pretty loud. Without another word, Ratchet moved off towards the crowd. The soldiers noticed him coming and immediately moved out of his way, making a path for him to walk through. Claire turned back to the others, now feeling worse than ever and wanting to be taken to her room. Karen seemed to notice and nodded to Lauren, who then stepped forward and grabbed the handle of Claire's suitcase.

"Follow me, I'll take you to your room."

Clare could only nod and follow Lauren away from the crowd. Hopefully she would have some time alone in her room. This was all too much to take in.

* * *

Ratchet was relieved to see that Optimus had no major injuries when he arrived. Once they were in the medbay, Ratchet patched up the few injuries the Prime had and scanned him. Optimus had been in stasis, and though Ratchet did not know why, he could tell that it was not because of something serious. It was only now that the Prime stirred, and Ratchet heard him mumble something. He turned to see Optimus slowly sitting up, and he moved to his side.

"Easy, Optimus," he murmured.

"Ratchet, the Matrix…"

Considering how Optimus seemed to be straining to sit up, Ratchet decided to scan the Prime once again before replying. "What is it?"

"Something's wrong…"

As he read the reports of the scan, Ratchet found himself becoming very confused. His scans had come back normal, but he was getting some irregular reading from Optimus' chest area. Upon closer inspection, Ratchet realized that it was the Matrix that was emitting the strange energy. Normally it pulsed along with Optimus' spark, making it almost invisible to scans. Now it clearly stood out, something it had never done this before.

"Optimus, I'm getting some strange readings from the Matrix. The energy levels are irregular and seemingly more powerful than usual. Optimus, what happened during that battle?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary happened at first. I was in the middle of firing on a group of Decepticons when images began to flash through my processor. I recognized them as events from the past that other Primes had witnessed, and sometimes the Matrix does do that. I figured it would pass, as it normally does. This time, however, the visions did not stop, but became increasingly violent, sometimes showing horrific deaths and battles. I then saw the battle between Sentinel and myself. This vision was accompanied by a faint voice that whispered at first, then slowly began to increase in volume before it began to scream frantically. The screaming increased when the vision showed Sentinel's death. There was more but…I believe I went into stasis. I cannot recall what the last images were, but I do remember the screaming. It sounded familiar, as if it were the screams of someone I knew, but I could not decipher who it may have been."

Ratchet hummed to himself, taking it all in and trying to figure out what all this could mean. "Optimus, may I see the Matrix?"

The Prime nodded and opened his chestplates, then allowed it to flow to his servo. The moment both mechs got a good look at it, both of their sparks seemed to drop. The Matrix was normally a bright silver with barely a mark on it, and it emitted a bright electric blue light. But much to their shock, the relic was now dull, and rust seemed to be appearing along the edges of it. Though it did emit a bright light, this light was a pale blue, almost white. It was much brighter than normal, and it increased in brightness every few seconds before fading. A strange noise was coming from it; a faint high-pitched noise as opposed to the normal quiet humming. It was obvious that something was extremely wrong, and both mechs stared on with a mixed expression of shock and horror.

"I don't understand!" Optimus choked.

"Optimus, it's rusting! The light, the sound, it's all wrong!"

"It's never done this!"

"What does this mean!?"

The Prime shook his helm. "I…I don't know."

Ratchet stared at him, unsure of how to process what was happening. Considering the condition of the Matrix, it may as well have been… "Primus…it's like it might be starting to fall apart! It's our only relic, Optimus! We need it!"

At this Optimus seemed to tense up. "There must be some explanation! Some way of reversing this! Relics do not just start to rust!"

"What's the reason, then!? How could an ancient Cybertronian relic with similar powers to the AllSpark start to rust!? This is unheard of! It doesn't happen!"

"Perhaps it has run out of energy."

"Relics don't run out of energy!" Ratchet snapped. "It's energy is infinite!"

"Nothing lasts forever, Ratchet."

"So that's just it? It's old, so it's going to rust away?"

"Perhaps it needs to be recharged."

"With what!? Energy from the sun!?" The medic hissed.

"I do not know, but we will have to consider everything. If the Matrix really is in danger of rusting away, then we must act quickly."

"What do you suggest?"

"We need to study it, and find out what is causing this. Was there ever any research conducted on it that might help us now?"

"It hasn't been rediscovered until now. Whenever I heard about it, mechs dismissed it as a myth. We have no where to start, and we've barely done any research ourselves outside of a few theories on how it restores energon supplies. Optimus, we have no leads, and—"

"We must start somewhere. Ratchet, I understand that you are extremely busy, especially with Wheeljack and Ironhide needing constant medical attention. However, you are the only Autobot here who would be able to conduct any research on the Matrix."

Ratchet shook his helm. "There's no time, and I'm no scientist…"

"Still, you must try."

"What about the others? Don't they deserve to know that our final relic is rusting away?"

Optimus was silent for a moment as he thought this over. The Autobots all deserved to know, seeing as this affected them directly. The Matrix may have been their only way of finding a formula for synthetic energon. Their energon reserves were so low now that they would soon be forced to take strict rations. Though the humans helped a lot with finding energon reserves already on Earth, they could not find them fast enough for all the Autobots' needs. The Matrix could also revive Autobots if need be, as well as replenish their energon supply. It was reassuring to know they could revive one of their crewmates of they were able to. If something like this came up and they were unable to use the Matrix, they would be devastated to learn this news. Despite this, telling the Autobots now might put more weight in them. They were still recovering from the loss of their planet and the near loss of their comrades. Not to mention all the work they were doing right now to get rid of rogue Decepticons. Even the hate they received from the media was starting to get to them. The last thing they needed was to worry about something as big as this.

"For now, we should wait. When Decepticon activity has died down, then we will share the news."

"Optimus, there's no telling when the Decepticons attacks will decrease! And the others may be angry to know we've withheld this information!"

"I understand that, Ratchet, but their morale is too low right now. Telling them this might make things worse."

Ratchet nodded in understanding. "Hopefully things will improve soon."

Optimus placed the Matrix on the berth, then swung his legs over the side of the side and stood up. He seemed fine now, despite how he looked and moved when he first came in and woke up. The Matrix may have been having more of an affect on him then either of them had realized. "Ratchet, am I free to go? I do have a lot of work to catch up on."

The medic vented. "Yes, but let me know if you feel anything else. The Matrix seems to have been the cause of your condition. Now that it is removed, you should be fine."

Optimus nodded and headed towards the door. "I will comm you if anything comes up. And please comm if you need anything. I am aware that you have a lot on your shoulders and will need help."

Optimus turned to look at Ratchet one last time before leaving. His optics reflected how tired he was. Considering that Ratchet knew his age, the Prime appeared to be much older than he really was. Now that he had another thing to worry about, it was clear that it was already having a very negative affect on him. Ratchet stared at the Matrix from where he was standing, unsure of what to think. Just what did this mean for the Autobots? Just what did this mean for all Cybertronians? The CMO sat down on a berth behind him and rest his helm on his servos. For once he wished he could cry like humans did, because the sadness that had built up inside him was almost overwhelming. What else was going to come their way and turn their lives upside down?

* * *

 **Poor Ratchet, honestly he has too much to deal with. I feel kinda bad now. Anyway, hopefully I'll have another chapter out soon. Have a good'n, and thank you so much for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yo! articmadador here with Chapter Five! I'm determined and though my updates are spaced far apart, I'm not giving up on this story. Anyway, I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! Hasbro does. I only own whatever plot material you don't recognize. Please review and enjoy!**

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Chelsey clutched the phone tightly in a sweaty hand, her eyes staring forward as a blaring tone sounded from the phone. She stood stiff, unable to move due to shock and utter disbelief of what had just happened. Suddenly, her entire body jerked and she dropped the phone before plunging her hands into her pockets. She pulled them inside out, then searched the ground around her, then searched her pockets again. She was searching for something she knew she would never find.

"One more quarter. Please, one more quarter!"

Chelsey grew frantic as she repeatedly pressed the return button on the payphone, hoping that the quarter she had spent would come rolling back. But it did not, and it wasn't until her thumb started to hurt that she realized that. She would not get another chance to call her cousins, and Moby was counting on word that everything was okay. But considering what had just happened, what Chelsey had just heard through the phone, she knew everything was not okay. In fact, it seemed that everything was just crumbling down to a big flaming heap of problems.

"Chelsey!"

Moby's voice startled her, and she clumsily hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths. Moby came walking up, looking very much annoyed and slightly sick. As she walked up to Chelsey, her expression softened as she noticed something was wrong "You aight?"

Chelsey paused for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah...yeah. Just…there's a lot of tornadoes poppin' up right now. They want us to be careful. They don't want us to get caught in any storms."

Moby nodded. "Hopefully we won't. We'll have to ask around for the best places to find shelter just in case. Unless you remember a few good spots?"

Chelsey took another deep breath to calm herself, then replied. "No, things have probably changed since I've been there."

"Yeah…"

Moby fell silent and Chelsey noticed she started swaying as if she were getting dizzy. After a few seconds she straightened up and held out Chelsey's backpack. "Come on. We better get goin'. We got a lot of ground to cover."

Chelsey took her backpack and chose not to say anything. She knew that she shouldn't have lied, and needed to pass on the news to Moby. It was likely that they did not have a place to go now, and Moby would definitely be pissed if she didn't out until they reached town. Neither of them had any more money, and it was very unlikely that they would happen upon some, much less another working payphone.

"Ah threw up earlier," Moby said as they started walking. "More of that blue jelly stuff. It felt good to get it out, though. My stomach's been hurtin' something fierce lately. Speakin' of which, how are you feelin'?"

Chelsey didn't reply, and Moby elbowed her. Chelsey glared at her, then realized that Moby had said something to her. "What?"

"Nuthin'. You sure you aight?" Moby asked. "You look a bit troubled."

Chelsey's heart skipped a beat, and she felt herself starting to sweat. She didn't want to tell Moby that her cousins might be dead, and they may need to find another place to go. In Chelsey's opinion, there was no where else. Every group of people they happened upon were either headed to another city to find relatives or struggling to live where they were. They had yet to meet anyone who wasn't as sick as them, and no one else was any better off. Being stuck with sickly strangers was the last thing Chelsey wanted, but she still needed to think of Moby. She had to tell her, or else risk getting into a big fight when Moby finds the truth. She looked her friend in the eye and prepared for the worse.

"Moby—"

Just as Chelsey spoke, there was a large explosion nearby along with several loud screams. Moby cursed and grabbed Chelsey's hand, and both girls started running towards the nearest building. Just as they did, something large and metallic flew over their heads and crashed into it. Changing direction, they rushed into a small bakery and moved as far away from the windows as possible. They crouched down behind the counter while the sound of shooting and alien voices could be heard outside.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! What was that!?" Moby whispered harshly.

"I don't know, but we should be safe in here."

There was a crash, and glass came spilling over the counter. Both girls could hear chairs and tables being thrown around as something moved around in the store. Then there was the sound of a woman screaming, and whatever was in the bakery left. However, the sounds were still nearby, along with more explosions.

"We gotta move," Moby whispered as she slowly stood up.

"Are you crazy!?" Chelsey hissed. "Whatever's out there will kill us!"

"Yeah, if we don't move. Sounds like it's fighting somethin', so it'll be distracted. Come on, let's go! Now!"

Moby pulled Chelsey up and started running, forcing her friend to follow. They didn't get two steps before there was the sound of growling. It was deep and animalistic, and both girls quickly turned towards the source in fear. Standing not too far from them was a tall Transformer holding the largest gun either of them had ever seen. Its piercing red optics were trained on them both, and a smile slowly formed on its face. Large silver fangs could be seen, and along woth the spiked black metal covering it's body, the Transformer looked like a true monster. It suddenly lifted its gun and aimed at both of them. Those hideous fangs parted, and a voice so rough came from it that it was hard to understand what was being said. Once the girls were able to decipher it, it only added to their fear.

"Target practice."

All the girls could do was stare helplessly into the barrel of the gun as it began to charge up. The Transformer laughed to itself, seemingly pleased that it was about to blow them to oblivion. Just as blue light gathered in the gun, gunfire came out of nowhere and struck their attacker in the face. It turned towards the assault and tried to aim, only to be knocked over by a Transformer that looked almost exactly like it. While the two began rolling and fighting, Moby saw this as their chance to escape and pulled Chelsey to her feet. They ran down the street, not daring to look back at the two fighting Transformers.

The two of them didn't stop running until they were out of breath. They didn't stop to rest until they found a safe place where no Transformers could easily find them. Now they were sitting in an art gallery, both struggling to eat. All they had now were a few cookies and a bag of popcorn to split between the two of them. Despite how hungry they were, every bite brought a nauseous feeling that was almost unbearable. After few minutes of struggling not to gag with every bite, they both gave up and sat in silence.

"This is hell…" Moby murmured finally, her voice quiet and shaky.

"Hell was Chicago during the attack."

"At least your city wasn't completely flattened and destroyed."

Chelsey turned to look at Moby. "Wait, I thought you said you were from Chicago."

Moby nodded. "Yeah…"

"Then—"

"Sorry, I guess I thought you were talkin' about some other place."

"But Chicago wasn't flattened. And I was talking about downtown during the first attacks, not the aftermath."

"Whatever…"

Moby slowly ate a cookie, wincing as she swallowed each bite. Chelsey didn't bother trying to eat, knowing she probably couldn't keep anything down. The two of them had been struggling to eat recently, and with every meal found themselves eating less and less. As badly as they needed food for their journey, it was simply too much of a struggle. Nonetheless, eventually they had to give in to hunger and force down a few bites of something. Chelsey was about to try eating some popcorn when Moby scrambled to her feet and rushed to a nearby trash bin. She started to throw up, then seemingly choked on something before blue liquid came out, followed by a jelly-like substance. She finally leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, swaying slightly.

"Moby? You okay?" Chelsey asked, slowly getting to her feet.

"I can't take this…"

Chelsey walked up to her. "I know this is hard but…we're almost there."

"I won't make it."

"Yeah you will! You're tough and—"

"We haven't had a good meal in weeks, Chelsey! We're runnin' on fumes! Every time we do eat, we throw the shit back up! We get sick whenever we drink water! We're always runnin' from shit and strugglin' to find supplies! We can't keep this up! There's only so long until we drop!"

"We'll reach my cousins before then!"

"And what makes ya think they're really that better off!?"

Chelsey glared at Moby, then stepped right up to her. "Sometimes, you're a real asshole, you know that? Look, I don't know if they're better off, but they will provide us with food and shelter, even if we start runnin' out of stuff after a while. You have to remember, this ain't a zombie apocalypse! Those Transformers might have a path of destruction right down the center of the US, but the government hasn't collapsed. People are still goin' about their daily lives, and a lot of people weren't even affected by this. If we get in too bad of shape, there's a chance someone will help us and get us to a safe place. We aren't gonna die, okay? We're gonna reach my cousins, and we'll be okay."

Moby was silent for a few seconds, then she signed and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, I just—"

"You're stressed, I know. But we'll be okay. We don't have too much further to go."

Moby smiled, then pulled Chelsey close for a hug. "I'm glad I ain't doin' this alone. I would be a wreck without you."

"More like you would've burned down a city by now."

Moby pulled back and pretended to be offended. "Chelsey, you wound me! I would've burned down three cities at the most!"

Chelsey only laughed and walked over to sit back down. "I don't doubt that for a second."

Moby followed her and sat down. She grabbed another cookie and stared at it for a while, turning it over and over in her hands. She then looked at Chelsey. "Hey, you know how there are good Transformers and bad ones?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…what happened to the good ones? Are they still around? Are they gonna get rid of all these bad ones? Or did they all die or somethin'?"

Chelsey stretched out and lay down on the floor. "I don't know. Last I heard, the government kicked them out."

"Yeah, but they couldn't have beat all them big bots alone. Humans against giant alien robots with giant alien guns? Ah don't think they could've really done that much damage. I reckon you gotta fight Transformers with Transformers."

Chelsey only mumbled in response, and seemed to be going to sleep. Moby lay down as well, finding that she was quite exhausted. They'd been on the move all day and seen a lot of action, so a good rest was in needed. She settled down as well, and soon drifted off to sleep. Chelsey was still awake, however, and could only stare at the blank wall beside her as she was lost in thought. She had not only lied to Moby, but continued to conceal the truth. She'd even gotten Moby's hopes up by reminding them that they had a place to go. She had to tell her before this came back to bite her in the ass, but for some reason she was just unable to find the courage or words. She knew Moby would be upset, and she knew they needed to make a new plan before they went so far only to find nothing left. But there was a chance that her cousins were fine. A slim chance, yes, but a chance nonetheless. Chelsey decided that, for now, she would wait. She would hold on to that chance that they were still alive.

* * *

 **Well, there's chapter five. Chapter six will be out some time in the future, no telling when. But it will be posted. Hope you enjoyed! Have a good'n!**


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